I’ve been married off to a reasonable, responsible Christian homeschool boy who likes dachshunds and Muslims. He cooks, I clean and the cat gets in the way. There is no baby but we do have many books. He reads Dostoevsky to me and I melt. His perfect grades and perfect hair make me jealous. On the other hand he believes strongly in not folding his socks.
I have a nice professional job in an office where I get to spend quality one-on-one time with kids who may or may not have ADHD, autism, depression, PTSD, TBI, cerebral palsy, intellectual disabilities and the rest. When they leave, they hope to never see me again for sure, yet I always feel the opposite. I understand why they hate me; there is a reason why a series of neuropsychological tests is called a battery.
Perhaps I will finish my degree (BA Psychology with music minor) next spring.